“What will you do with her once you find her?
Take her on the Jerry Springer Show so you can yell at her for screwing up your life? “
“Ellen.” Chloe made a very un-nun like face.
“Be kind.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Shelly said.
Daria knew that when her younger sister’s voice took on that tinny edge, she was two seconds away from crying.
“We would all rather Shelly didn’t pursue this,” she said to Ellen, “but it’s important to her.”
Shelly looked surprised at her sudden support.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Well, good,” Ellen said.
“Shelly’s finally being allowed to make a decision on her own. After twenty years of you telling her when to blow her nose.”
Daria could think of no suitable retort that would not upset Chloe, so she kept her mouth shut. Ellen had always complained about Daria’s over protectiveness toward Shelly. Right from the start, she’d tried to change Daria’s approach with her. Shelly should have been in regular public-school classes, she’d argued. She would have learned to keep up eventually. She should be forced to live on her own and get a real job like everyone else. Daria babied her too much. Shelly had never learned to stand on her own two feet. And on and on.
Ellen had no sympathy for Shelly’s fears. Even at Sue Cato’s funeral, when Shelly was beside herself with grief and battling a whole new crop of fears precipitated by the loss of her mother, Ellen saw fit to torment her. After the funeral, everyone went back to the Catos’ house for a dinner of sandwiches and salads. Shelly was sitting on an overstuffed chair in the living room, and Ellen, knowing full well her cousin’s irrational fear of earthquakes, snuck up behind the chair and shook it, sending eight-year-old Shelly flying out of the room in terror. Daria, then nineteen, had smacked her older cousin across the face, starting a brawl that left few physical injuries but plenty of hard feelings.
Chloe suddenly stood up. “I have to go over to St. Esther’s,” she said.
“Do you mind cleaning up?” She was looking at Daria.
“No problem.” She thought Chloe was rather brave to leave her there with Ellen, when she had to know Daria was ready to rip her cousin’s throat out. But she managed to get through the washing and drying of the dishes without incident, and then she escaped to the athletic club, alone.
Ivory handed Grace the glass of lemonade, then sat down in one of the other chairs on Poll-Rory’s porch. They had the cottage to themselves.
Grace had arrived just as Zack left for the water park with Kara and her various siblings and cousins. Rory had felt nervous about this meeting between Zack and Grace, when it would be apparent she was there for some purpose other than to borrow the phone. Zack had merely mumbled a greeting to Grace, then left the cottage with Kara. He seemed truly indifferent to what ever Rory wanted to do. Maybe he was even pleased that Rory had someone to keep him occupied and off his back. ;
Grace was wearing an emerald green sundress, sandals and the blue see-through sunglasses. Her light brown bangs were long and sexy. He liked looking at her.
“Well,” Grace said, “tell me more about the child who was found on the beach.”
He was hoping she would ask that question. They’d talked about the shop she ran in Rodanthe it was part sundries and part cafe, she said and they talked a bit about Zack, and he began to wonder if his story about Shelly was not all that compelling after all. But now she seemed interested, her gaze focused on the cottage across the cul-de-sac.
“What would you like to know?” he asked.
“What do you think people would want to know about her?”
“What her life has been like,” Grace said.
“What she looks like. You said she’s beautiful?”
“She’s a beauty, all right,” Rory said.
“Tall and blond.”
“And brain-damaged.” Grace pursed her lips as though this fact made her angry.
“She’s just a little…” He didn’t want to say simple. Somehow that word was not appropriate.
“She’s… ingenuous, if you know what I mean. I don’t know her well, I’ve only spoken to her a few times, but she seems very trusting in an innocent sort of way.”
“Was she treated well by her adoptive family?” Grace asked.
“She’s loved,” he said.
“Her mother died when she was eight, though, and one of her sisters took over her care.”
“Oh…” Grace frowned.
“Poor little thing. She lost two mothers.”
“I think Daria took terrific care of her, though.”
“What about… holding a job? Can she work? How did she do in school?
What about socially? Did she”— ” Whoa. ” Rory laughed, pleased. He should be writing down her questions so he’d be sure to address them in the program.
